Moulin Rouge! 2
by Golden Autumn
Summary: Chrisitan still mourns for Satine a year after her death. Zidler and Marie hide a dark secret about the truth of what really happened that night. BEAUTY! FREEDOM! TRUTH! LOVE! Lemon later with lemony references.
1. Prologue

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own _Moulin Rouge!_, nor any of the rights to it. The characters aren't mine. Basically, I OWN NOTHING. I only wrote the story line for this sequel thing, and some of the characters I may put in.

Enjoy ~

Prologue

Christian looked up at the ceiling. It had been a year since Satine had died. Their story had been published as a book, to great success. The critics said it was underworld trash, but the public had greatly embraced it. He had gotten letters about his wonderful talent and that he should write more.

The duke had closed down the Moulin Rouge, due to the fact his 'ending' didn't happen. He hadn't seen him since. Zidler partnered up with another night club owner to stay in business. They had been buddies and he had a place to go. Toulouse had gotten a job as an actor in Paris, mostly playing comical roles in small plays. All the other writers and musicians in their group had left. He was the only one still living in that flat. Toulouse did visit though.

Every day he would sit on the sill and look at the Moulin Rouge, thinking of her, and the short time that was theirs. He was naïve that year, and did not make it as meaningful as it should have been. He still mourned.

* * *

Zidler sat in the chair watching his partner run the show. They alternated nights, and all of his girls got small parts, grateful to still have a job. It worked out well for the most part. The whole club had moved to a larger place and it was a hot spot in Paris, just as the Moulin Rouge had been. They had named it Rose Pourpre Theater.

Marie had followed him to this club as well, to help take care of the girls. None of the girls knew what had happened that night. The secret was kept by Zidler and Marie, and to a lesser extent Satine.

* * *

Satine looked up at the ceiling as she received her medicine. She lay in an extravagant bed covered in rich silk. This new type of medicine had almost completely cured her of Consumption. She only wished now she could spend her second chance with him, instead of with the Duke. These antibiotics some how had beat the deadly infection, and she no longer was as sick. She was slowly getting better, and the doctor soon said with a few more months of treatment, she would be cured completely. The duke had paid a fortune for her life, medicine was expensive. To pay him for his help, she was his mistress.

He walked in and smiled. She smiled back, to make him happy. That was the only way she was kept alive, through his varying levels of charity. He was having a good day today.

He had received his ending that night, but at the expense of Satine's freedom. She longed for Paris. She remembered his laugh, his smile, and the true love they shared.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: I Miss You**

Thinking back to the summer of love, Christian looked out to the view he had from his meager flat. The Moulin Rouge stood, untouched in a year, as it was opening night

So often he had thought of breaking in, touching the familiar surroundings and sitting down and staying awhile. But, his heart still ached, and he couldn't bear to open the door or touch the handle. He imagined it as the same it was that night, at that moment. Flowers on the ground covering the whole stage. Props scattered across the sides and out on stage.

That moment, to him, was the moment his life stopped. His heart died with her; Though he couldn't bear to go to her funeral, to bury it with her. He had stayed with her for a few minutes after she died, cradling her body in his arms. He thought he felt movement within her once or twice, but in his hysterical state, he couldn't really tell. He resigned later that it was his shaking body and arms.

Zidler and Toulouse pulled him away, but he tried to maintain hold. They finally took her away, and he lay there crying on stage. They never reopened the curtains, though the crowd screamed for more. He tried to follow her body, but Zidler held him back, comforting him. He finally was carried home by the bohemians, he lay in bed for days.

The funeral was set a few days after her death. He got ready to go but decided against it. If he didn't see her buried, she wasn't really dead.

It had taken almost 8 months for him to get out of bed and write their story. Until that point, Toulouse and the bohemians had taken care of him, understanding the pain. Each page he wrote was like reliving it. The first part was amazing. For those few days, he was himself again, and sped through the happy times. After that, though, he wrote slowly and painstakingly. Each word was like being pierced, the pain returning. He finally got done a month after he had started. He sent it to the publisher for editing and printing. 20 copies were made and set out at a book store for preview. The public ate them up, and 350 more copies were made a sold that month. Soon, critics around France were discovering and reading it. He had become a famous writer at last. It was all for naught though. He had become a part of the well to do world, he was actually quite wealthy, but he stayed in his flat, staring endlessly at his past.

The anniversary of her death was coming up, and he couldn't bear to look at the calendar to see. Toulouse had visited earlier that week, telling him he had scored a part in a large production: 'Spectacular! Spectacular!'. Yes, his play had also become a huge hit. Critics liked this one, and he had been acclaimed for it.

However, the pain of his own play around this same date immensely bothered him. He painfully asked Toulouse to leave after congratulating him, and he nodded him a bid him farewell.

* * *

Zidler's life during the day was boring, the club was closed. He got letters from Satine once a week, to keep the girls from discovering her secret life, she wrote her letters with the pseudonym Mademoiselle Lily. The duke's name was Monsieur Louis. She told him of life at his country mansion just outside of Creil, most of them letters about her sadness and that she didn't like him. She told him that her consumption was slowly going away thanks to the miracle medicine. She told him she wished to escape.

He always wrote back with the same story, saying she couldn't leave and that he wished her the best. He told her that 'her friend' had become famous and achieved their dreams. She always wrote back happy to hear that.

Marie also chipped into the letters telling her to hang on. And that she had a plan. Of course, she didn't say this outright but instead coded into a message that seemed innocent. They had developed this code when Satine was younger, to communicate what Zidler was up to, or if something went wrong.

Zidler and Marie had talked about maybe sneaking her out, but they knew there would be a price to pay if they were caught. The Duke was an extremely powerful man with many connections. They hoped one day it was possible, or at least Zidler did. Marie knew a way out she was just waiting until Satine wrote the signal.

So far, the coded messages were only saying that it would be about another month before a move could be made. She was still trying to seduce him further, which was taking awhile, because she had deceived him before. She also had to wait for the consumption to be completely gone.

She wrote that he was obsessed with her. She completely resented him.

* * *

Satine sat in her room in the window seat overlooking the country side. She stared and tried to think up her escape, a way to run away, and see Christian again. She wished she could fly away.

She had dreamed of the moment she would see him again, planning every minor detail. She would knock on the door, the way she used too. She would run in and hug him and kiss him. They would run away that night, and be together as they always dreamed. This was the only thing that kept her going, the only thing that kept her from breaking down.

She had nearly seduced the Duke, it would only take a little more. He had been untrusting of her at first, but over time she convinced him that she was totally in love, and that she would do anything he asked. He fell into her intricate lies, and he had been trusting of her since about 3 months ago.

She had been slowly making progress despite the Duke's obsession. She had to have daily meals with him, at every meal, at least when he was home. Every night was their supposed 'opening night', and she had to give him what he wanted. She struggled each time to do it, almost weeping, thinking of Christian. She kept it in though, and gave him a royal show. Luckily, he was also sterile, due to an accident when he was younger. She was excited about this, she couldn't get pregnant by him, no ties at all.

During the day, it was worse. She had two maid/spies around her at all times. The only upside to this was they didn't follow her into the bathroom, so she could at least send messages that way. She couldn't try to send it formally, the duke would read it.

The birds had become her savior. One in particular must have been trained, for he knew where she wanted him to go. He didn't seem bothered by the note attached to his leg, and by the next week, she had a note back from Zidler using another bird.

The maids were also her only human friends, though they weren't exactly close ones. She could go anywhere on the grounds as long as they went with her. She got outside a lot more than she used too, which was an upside, but she could never be out for too long. She was still sick, and she couldn't go back to near death; that had been extremely scary, and she did not want to experience it again.

Her dreams of a famous actress had faded too, there was no way she could be one now, she was 'dead'. Her dreams mocked her, for although she had health, she didn't have life.

The duke in his madness had given her every material thing imaginable. A giant room, beautiful dresses, extravagant jewelry. She even had a little dog that she absolutely adored. She didn't know what breed it was, but it was a spunky little puppy. It reminded her of Christian, small and young, yet extremely spunky and alive. She really wished she could have named it after Christian, but to hide her fake love, she gave it the name Amato. The duke thought she was talking about him, for Amato meant 'loved'. She just smiled and nodded.

She sat and watched the fountain below. She didn't know what kind of escape she should plan. She had though about killing the duke, but she knew his man servant would be watching and guarding him, and that if he was killed, he would know who did it. She maybe thought of knocking him out, just enough time too escape and he would know what was what. She could get away before he knew where she went, though the pull to Paris would be obvious, and when he woke up, he would know where to look.

She thought about this everyday, and the thoughts never ceased. In her dreams, she always saw Christian, standing there. He looked beyond her face and called her name. She knew he didn't know that she was still alive, and that would make the surprise even bigger.

The one year anniversary drew near, only a month and a half away, in that time she had to come up with a plan.

* * *

Christian, for the first time in a long time, got up and dressed. He had sulked far too long, and he knew it. He put on his hat and walked out the door. He planned to go back to England before long, he couldn't stand to stay and be constantly reminded. However, he had to visit some where one more time.

He walked down the stairs and out the door, and went across the street to the Moulin rouge. His street was busy, so he couldn't do it out in the open. He walked past, went around the corner, and into the back alley. It smelled horrible, but the back entrance was here.

He used his key he had from the days when he was writing the play. He walked in like he owned the place.

The pungent smell of decaying roses filled the area. He ignored this, and went across the stage. He stepped on purple roses and looked out. The curtains were still closed, and the stage hadn't seen light in more than a year. He didn't open the curtains.

He looked around at all of the old props they had used, the whole production was extravagant.

He walked down back stage and went into Satine's old dressing room. It was filled with all of her old dresses and jewelry, they hadn't cleaned it out. He got all of her jewelry together, and put it into a little bag. He stashed it away in his pocket.

He touched all of her old things, a memory went along for each one. Her bird cage was empty, Zidler had freed the bird. He ran out of the room and onto the stage. He went past the curtains and sat down on the edge. He looked out at all the empty seats. He stood up.

"I regret to inform you that Satine, The Sparkling Diamond, has-" He choked up, He couldn't say it.

He jumped off stage and walked down the middle of the aisle. He saw the sitar player's jacket and stepped by it. He opened the doors from the theater into the outside courtyard. It lay in disrepair, the plants were dead, the elephant had lost its luster, damaged from the wind and rain. He used the rope and climbed up. He remembered that moment when he and Satine had fallen in love. This elephant was theirs, though she had shared it with hundreds of men.

He walked down the stairs, into the love room. Her smell, all of her perfumes, were still there. It hung like curtains about the room.

He saw the bed sheets all tangled, her dress on the floor. He sat down and took it all in.

The memories of the room were endless. He had snuck in many times, finding ways. The nights were enchanted almost. They had not always done what the room was about, but rather sometimes talked and laughed. He wished he could go back in time and hear it, her sweet laugh. For a second he almost heard it, but it faded away…

* * *

**A/N: **

You like? :]

It took awhile to finish, sorry. School and homework = no brain to write.

Most of this is drivel, but its nice fluff. It's the whole basis of the story, so it may

Take a chapter or two. It will pick up, don't worry.

Its not as long as I had hoped, but I wanted to give ya'll something.

So you wouldn't be checking back to an empty story. :]

COMMMEEENNNNTTTTT PLEEAASSSEEEE!


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Satine sat in melancholy in her chambers. A window seat provided sunshine into an otherwise bleak room. Her room was her prison; the duke would enter promptly each night. It was almost as bad as gothic tower. Rich silk hung about the bed; the curtains were closed. At least she couldn't see it. A bed of pain laid down each night, it had become the only silken bed in the world which was a bane to her, the only silken bed that she wished wasn't hers. Luckily, the curtains would be closed for a time. The Duke was in Paris on business, leaving her and the servants alone in the quiet country. She could rest, finally. Satine looked over the rolling hills, they seemed to wish to roll her all the way to Paris. She would go willingly, if only. Drowning in a velvety sea, she stood up. Amato wanted down, and began to whine at the door. She opened it, and stood in the doorway. Lucille and Aimee stood up from their chairs outside of her room. Like prison guards, they always were near her, or outside of her door. They bowed.

"Madame" They said in unison.

Satine nodded.

"I think I would like to go outside."

Lucille looked over at Aimee and nodded

"After you Madame"

Satine knew with certainty of their spying, but couldn't help making friends with her stalkers. They were the only women that would speak to her in the house, and she needed some appropriate conversation. Lucille was the kinder of the two maids; she was timid, caring, and intelligent. Aimee on the other hand was civil, but often wouldn't answer questions or reply in conversation. She had been demoted in rank after Satine had arrived, and she blamed Satine. It was also key to fool the maids as well. Them being spies, the duke would rely on their womanly understanding to discern her actions and conversation. She had to dupe them into thinking that she whole-heartedly loved the Duke. As if anyone could.

"How long is the Duke gone?"

Lucille replied quietly, "Two weeks, Madame."

"I do miss him. I wish he would hurry himself. What business is he on?"

"He would not tell us."

Satine nodded and kept walking. Amato pranced at her feet. She smiled, thinking of Christian. Her plan was becoming a bit clearer, but she still had the kinks to bump out of it. She descended the staircase slowly, the Duke's 'love' surrounded her in layers of fabric, leaving little room for her feet to move steadily. As she reached the bottom, she noticed a servant hurriedly turning a corner. They all fled from her in the house. The Duke no doubt had disclosed her past, and they did not want to be marred by her 'uncleanliness'.  
"I think we might go around to the yard at the back. The yard at the front is rather boring when there is no one to greet."  
Aimee and Lucille nodded and made their way down two halls and then turned left into a study with large windows. At the right were French doors. Lucille and Aimee walked and opened the doors for Satine to walk through. Amato yipped with happiness and started in an excited trot towards a tree. Satine laughed happily and walked after him. The ladies followed 5 feet behind. Satine picked up her large dress and began a fast walk to attract Amato's attention. Amato yipped at the motion and started to run around barking at Satine. After a few minutes, the weight of the dress was too heavy, and despite the lack of corset, she began to be short of breath. She started to cough, and slowly made her way to the outdoor patio where a wooden loveseat had been placed.

"Madame, are you alright?" Lucille asked.

These coughing fits after minor exertions had become common. The consumption had almost healed, but the damage done to her lungs was permanent. Her lungs also had not completely healed yet, and though the sickness went away, her lungs were still raw from the infection.

"No, no, I'm fine, just a bit too much playing I'm afraid. Let's just sit, Amato can play on his own"

Aimee and Lucille nodded and sat on chairs on either side of the couch.

"How have your families been doing lately?" Satine asked. She turned to Aimee in an attempt to prod some friendly conversation out of her. Aimee, as always, replied curtly.  
"Very well, Madame. My family had a good harvest this year."  
Satine, nodded and smiled. "I'm glad to hear it."  
"And your family, Lucille?"  
"Well, Madame. We earned enough money to buy a new horse and buggy." Lucille said happily.  
"That is wonderful."  
Amato got tired from chasing his tail and walked over and laid down on the layers of Satine's dress on the ground.  
Satine smiled and bent down to pet the puppy, who promptly rolled over.  
"It's such a wonderful day outside. I hope it's this nice in Paris, Paris is always beautiful in good weather and it puts him in such a nice mood. It's such a shame he's on business though. Having to be inside so often."  
"I'm sure even if its good weather in Paris, he'll be ready to come out to the country. He always misses you, Madame. " Lucille said.  
"Really? I would hope he misses me so much. I miss him so very much."

Christian had downed his second glass of absinthe for the day. He had not become a drunkard, but it had been a daily ritual of his to at least have one glass every other day and sit on the old window sill. He looked at it again, the dilapidated old building which had once been his favorite place in the world. He tried to take another drink but found the glass empty.  
Today had been a particularly bad day. A year ago exactly he wrote Come What May for Satine. Humming it to himself was both comforting and torturous. Little did he know that at that time, what would come would be worse than storms and mountains. That it would truly separate them forever and he could sing all he wanted, but she would never be by his side again. He would still love her until his dying day. He didn't mind if that came sooner than later now.  
A knock interrupted his thoughts.  
"Christhain! Are you there? Please open the door!"  
Christian sighed and set down his empty glass. He stumbled and opened the door to find Toulouse in his finest suit waiting at the door.  
"Hello Toulouse. Come in"  
Toulouse walked in and sat in a chair in the corner.  
"I see thoday isn't such a good one. What is ith?"  
"The anniversary of 'Come What May'." Christian replied stonefaced.  
"Oh. Maybe I should come back on a happier day then."

"No, Toulouse. Stay. Company can actually be good on days like this."  
"Wewll. You thsee, thats actually what I didn't want you to do. I wanted to invite you down to the theatre where we are rehearsthing."

"No." "Toulouse, I'm sorry. No"

"I asthked the director and he is happy to let you thsit in. Maybe it will help you."  
" I don't think it will, Toulouse."  
Toulouse looked around and saw a flat in shambles. It had been bad before even a year ago when Satine was alive. It was after all in Montmartre. However, after Satine died, it had deteriorated quickly. On good days, it looked halfway presentable. On bad days it was an artistic dump of bottles, glass and ink. Today it looked bad, but it was not the worst he had seen it.  
"Christhain, come pleasthe. The whole castht really wants you to thsee it. They know you will not come opening night."  
The words echoed a bit in Christian's mind. It hurt every part of him in more ways than one.  
"No, Toulouse."  
Toulouse sighed. He had tried as he had promised. Not even the strongest absinthe he could find could numb Christian enough to come sit in on even the production of the play.

"Alright Christhain. Good bye."  
Toulouse hopped off the chair and hobbled to the door and left.  
Christian sat back on the window sill and watched as Toulouse got a cab. He decided he might have a third absinthe. It was after all a special occasion.

Christian laughed at the thought of opening night.  
He remembered how upset he had been last year when Satine had lied to him about not being in love with him. How he had gotten drunk on the last night he would see her alive. That truly was the only reason he still drank. The taste of the absinthe reminded him of that night, and the taste made him believe it was still that night and he could just walk into the Moulin Rouge and see her alive in her costume.  
It never made the dream come true though. Even believing in green faeries didn't bring her back.

I'm not sure I can say how sorry I am for the hiatus that has happened.  
Its been almost three years.  
Between writers block, getting older, and more homework, this update has been long overdue.  
I'm really sorry it took this long. This is just a taste I could come up with quickly though.  
I will try HARD to update and write more often now.  
I hope you enjoy this.  
Reviews please! : DD


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